Devil Moon (29 page)

She needed to touch him as he touched her. The length, strength and heat of him throbbed under her fingers. Silky fire drove her to passion she'd never before experienced. It wasn't enough to passively receive. She wanted his textures under her fingers, his tastes in her mouth. And that chest, that broad chest—a playground to explore. She kissed his pecs and stroked him wonderfully erect. He moaned her name.

Her womb ached for him, longed for him. Simply had to have him. She flung one leg over his hips and rose up on her knees. Blue beams poured through the windows. They gazed at each other in the shadowy light.

Phil's face flashed with fire as he scanned her naked body hovering over him. "You are a goddess. A beautiful statue come to life."

She felt beautiful as his hand reached up and grazed her breasts. Power surged through her. Purely, fabulously female, she centered over his strong erection and took him in, following nature to that secret electrified spot.
There, right there
. Slowly, she rocked back and forth, up and down, letting her body direct the moves.
Right there, right there
.

He grabbed her hips and pumped.
Faster, deeper, stronger
. He knew exactly what he wanted and how to do it.
Oh Phil…Oh my God
. Shocks waves pulsed out from her center, spiraled and crashed over her. Her spine arched as she threw her head back and gave into the ultimate uniting of body and spirit.

I'll love you until I die.

She collapsed on his chest, curled her leg over his thigh and snuggled close, completely spent.

His voice rumbled under her ear. "Good night, Moon Goddess."

She barely got the words out before sleep overtook her, "Good night, Dream Man."

* * *

Pam was on the rampage. Melissa had never seen her mother so out of it. She'd been hammered with questions about Dad and Mrs. Bailey or Miss Harris or whatever she was being called nowadays. Melissa was really confused. She'd known Miss Harris was around a lot, but the way Pam always talked about "when your Dad and I get back together," she figured it was all working out the way she wanted it. Dad back home. One, big happy family.

Now, when she really thought about it, she realized Dad had been putting up with Mom. Just going along so his visitations would go better.

It was Friday night before another game, the last one before Thanksgiving. A big one. Evidently Pam had seen her Dad and Miss Harris together at the mall the previous night and she'd been ballistic ever since. Now Mom was getting dressed to kill.

"Hand me those earrings," Pam said, sitting in front of the dressing table in her bedroom, like a queen. "Listen, when you see Dad tonight, you be sure and ask him over for Thanksgiving again. I've already talked to him about it, but he'll be sure and come if you let him know you're expecting him. I don't want him going over to that bitch's house."

"I don't think Miss Harris is a bitch. She's always been cool to me."

"Oh, she's a bitch all right. A cold, calculating bitch. I didn't tell you what department they were in at the mall last night, did I? The maternity department! She's got herself knocked up and is looking for another daddy candidate now that your precious Mr. Bailey seems to be out of the picture." Pam spritzed on perfume that made Melissa want to gag. "What is the world coming to, that unmarried assistant principals get pregnant and don't get canned? Or maybe nobody knows about it yet. Maybe she figures to snag your dad so fast, she can keep her respectability. Whatever her game is, I'm getting rid of her."

Watching her mother primping at the vanity, Melissa said, "How are you gonna do that? Shoot her?"

Pam smiled smugly. "I'm not looking to end up in the electric chair. No, I've got a secret weapon and I know just how to use it."

Melissa knitted her eyebrows. "Well, I've got to get to the game. I'll see you later."

Outside, Melissa mounted her bright, new bike and headed for the field. She needed to think this all out. Keep an eye on the grown-ups and see if she could make sense out of everything her mother had been talking about.

* * *

Maddie sat in her usual spot on the front row of the bleachers, cheering the Beavers on into the third quarter. The smell of popcorn and turned turf tickled her nose. She wondered if she still glowed from the previous evening's amorous adventure in Phil's arms. She felt like a completely new person—a liberated, happy, maternal Maddie. In love with a rough and tumble football jock and proud of it. Soon, she would tell him. She might even propose. Go straight from the "L" word to the "M" word. Would he faint, run away, or give her a bear hug? She surely hoped for the hug.

She jumped to her feet and cheered as the Beavers took it into the end zone. After they made the extra point, Phil turned around and looked for her. She gave him a thumbs up. He waved; a grin filled his face. Melissa stood next to her father and turned also. Her solemn gaze hit Maddie between the eyes. Maddie's warm glow dulled a little as she felt Melissa's hostility shoot across the football field.
Uh-oh
.

Maddie sunk to her seat and hoped she misinterpreted Melissa's expression. The last thing she wanted was to cause a rift between Melissa and Phil just when they were moving past their troubled history.

Even though she hated to miss a minute of the game, her pregnant bladder simply couldn't be ignored. Phil's child was already an active thumper, a fact that didn't surprise her in the least.

Maddie rose and made her way to the ladies room, hoping she wouldn't miss any big plays.

Florescent lights flickered in the deserted cinder block bathroom. She quickly entered a toilet with a functioning lock. As she maneuvered her new maternity clothes under her coat, she heard someone enter the bathroom. Guess she wasn't the only one with a touchy bladder.

Pam stood, arms crossed, leaning against a sink, obviously waiting for Maddie when she emerged from the stall. Big hair, big boobs and biker boots. Maddie's mother had a phrase for it—
her taste is all in her mouth
.

Maddie hesitated for a moment and then headed for an empty sink. "Hello."

"Hello, bitch."

Water ran over Maddie's hands as she tried to assess the situation.

She dried her hands and turned to face Pam. "Something on your mind, Mrs. Wilcox?"

Pam took a step in Maddie's direction, her face a grotesque, painted mask. "Yeah, plenty's on my mind. I know what you're up to. I'm on to you and you're not going to get away with it."

Maddie assumed her Bostonian cool. "And what exactly are we talking about?"

"I'm talking about the kid you got in the oven and you trying to snag Phil as the father. I saw you last night. Shopping for maternity clothes at the mall. Very cozy. Very lovey-dovey."

Maddie closed her eyes for a moment. Here it was. She'd known the word would get out. She'd been hoping for a better messenger to the world than Phil's ex-wife.

She held her ground. "All right. The cat's out of the bag. I'm pregnant. Phil's the father. What are you going to do about it?"

Pam took a step back and reached into her tiny purse for her cigarettes. "You mean Phil really is the father? You're not just putting your hooks in him?"

"We can do a DNA test after the child's born if you're going to spread a lot of rumors and speculation. I assure you the tests will show Phil is the father. But I don't see what this has to do with you."

"Oh, you don't, huh?" She lit up her cig. "Listen, Phil is
mine
. I've been wondering why he's been so slow to take the bait. I didn't realize you'd been putting out for him. You sure don't look like his type. But, I'm telling you now and you better do as I say and find yourself another daddy for the kid."

"Don't be ridiculous. Phil would never give up his rights to his child. You should know that better than anybody."

"Yeah, you're right. Phil's got a real thing for fatherhood. Melissa is his weak spot. I can get him to do just about anything when I threaten to take away his visitation." She raised a speculative penciled eyebrow, exhaling a cloud of smoke. "And I can do a lot worse than that."

Pam took a few steps away as Maddie felt a chill coming on. Someone tried to open the bathroom door, but Pam had locked it.

"Go away!" Pam said. "We're fixing a busted pipe!"

Maddie kept a calm to her voice she did not feel. "What are you really saying?"

Pam sucked nicotine, highlighting fine wrinkles around her lips. "You've got the hots for Phil, don't you? I saw it last night."

"I love Phil," Maddie said, feeling the blood draining from her head.

"Even better." She strutted in the small enclosure, her heels clicking on the concrete. "If you really love him, then you wouldn't want to see him lose his daughter over you. His daughter, the light of his life. The reason he quit drinking and gave up a big bucks job to coach high school football in this hick town."

Maddie couldn't believe the cruelty Pam was implying. "How can you be so selfish? Would you deny Melissa the love of her father?"

Pam's eyes became green slits. "Unless you dump Phil, I'll turn Melissa against him. I've done it before and I can do it again. Phil is my one hope of getting out of this town. He's on his way now. He could move into coaching in college or the pros. And I'm going to be there with him. Me and Melissa. The way it's supposed to be. I'm not letting some tight-assed bitch take him away from us. If you don't cut it off with him, I'll take Melissa away. I'll tell her how he chose you over us. I'll make her hate his guts. It will be easy." Pam turned to the mirror and patted a few bleached hairs into place. "So, what will it be? Are you going to be responsible for Phil losing his daughter, Miss High and Mighty?"

Maddie felt light-headed and had to grab the sink to keep her balance. She looked in the mirror, hoping to see Grammy Harris for moral support. But all she saw in the harsh light was her ashen face and Pam's cat grin in the background.

Maddie spoke to Pam's reflection. "You're a wicked, evil person."

Pam laughed. "Sticks and stones, sticks and stones. I really gotta get back. Phil might miss me cheering on his team. He's always looking for me. And if you go whining to him about this little conversation, I'll have Melissa out of the state so fast, he won't have time to take a picture to remember her by. You dump Phil or he will never see Melissa again."

Pam walked over to the door, flipped back the lock and sashayed out into the night.

Maddie gazed into the mirror. She leaned in and examined closely. Surely a dozen new lines were about to pop to the surface.

* * *

Just before dawn on Saturday morning, and Phil felt great. He sprang out of bed and hit the shower. The forecast was for sunshine and sixty-five degrees. The team had won another game. They'd only lost one so far. His daughter looked at him with eyes of adoration and her mother was no longer making his life a living hell. Dealing with Pam was like crossing a tightrope over a pond of hungry alligators. One false step, and
chomp
, your leg was gone. Or in Pam's case, another equally vital body part. Still, he'd been going along to get along and she seemed to be under control.

But the biggest reason for his euphoria was Miss Madeleine Woodbridge Harris, mother of his unborn child, amazing unleashed lover. Who would have guessed? Uninhibited, responsive, just plain hot. And she was his.

He got dressed, antsy to get going.

Man was meant to start the day throwing his line into a lake, watching the sunrise, not riding a desk somewhere. He decided to try his luck in Maddie's lake again. He'd never actually gotten the chance to fish at Lake Luna that night four months ago. Might be some good fishing there. Ah, hell, who was he kidding? He wanted to see her. It was too early to call. She'd looked dead tired after the game last night. He'd barely said two words to her before she begged off and left without looking back. But if a man just happened to be fishing in the area and then dropped by later to say hello, he might get a cup of coffee and breakfast. Phil tugged his fishing cap on his head and left his dingy apartment behind.

Driving up the winding hill, he let his mind drift and dream. He imagined taking this drive every day and night, watching the change of seasons in the colors of the hills. Going to work, returning home. His home with Maddie and their son. Yeah, why not? Why not dream big? For him, the thought of a happy home was a big dream. Bigger than winning the Superbowl and a helluva lot more satisfying.

Later, as he cast his line again and again in the sparkling water, he glanced up at her cabin, looking for signs of life. Even with the debris of fall all around, it had a tidy appearance. The picture window that looked out onto the lake gleamed in the morning sunshine. With each flick of his wrist, his resolve grew stronger. He was going to make the big play, ask her to marry him. He wanted her, the whole package: the uptight suits, the smart mouth, the sparkling eyes, the creamy skin. He wanted the woman who looked like she believed in him and the man he could be. And he surely wanted the child she'd be holding at her breast.